Destination
by Milaya Milen Zeal
Summary: "We're all searching for that one place to call home, that one place we feel most comfortable, that one place where we can just be honest with ourselves without fear. But there is one thing that's more precious than finding that one special place…" Kuja/Zidane if you squint


_**Destination**_

**Fandom:** Final Fantasy IX

**Pairing(s): **None, really, though it might be Zidane/Kuja if you squint.

**Summary:** We're all searching for that one place to call home, that one place we feel most comfortable, that one place where we can just be honest with ourselves without fear. But there is one thing that's more precious than finding that one special place…

**Writing style:** Third-person thought perspective. Present tense, no names mentioned unless spoken.

* * *

"…where are we going…?"

He hears the words, but he is not sure who is asking, though it really is only him and them, so really, it should be one of the two who has just popped that question, and yet he cannot say for certain which it is, because it can just as well have been himself asking the question, rather than them as he pushes on ahead. But as the question is asked, he cannot help but wonder just how often that very same question has been asked, by so many people over so many lifetimes…

How many times has he heard those words?

He had forgotten before, but, gradually, he has been remembering things he was sure he never would ever again, even though he has never said anything of it to anyone, because the memories were truly precious when he looked back on them, with something he was certain was a kind fondness, as he wishes absently, without really knowing why, to return to the days when his life was as simple as merely tagging along behind, his little hand seeking hold wherever he could so as not to be left behind, a happy smile on his smile, despite the glare that comes his way whenever he did so. He recalls how he would do his best to follow, but he was only so little back then, and he was often left behind, but he has never been a quitter, even back then, and so, every time he falls, he gets up and hurries after once again.

"Where are we going today?" he remembers asking every time, and every time for a long long time, the answer was the same as always; "_We_ are not going anywhere! Now go away!"

A smile breaks his face as he remembers that, and he briefly closes his eyes as he stops to briefly crack his fingers, just for a moment, before he looks up again and continues on, still smiling softly to himself as he recalls how he would grab onto them anywhere he could and they would yowl and then shout to him, and he would merely smile or grin, which was always enough to make them fall silent. He recalls that he never understood why back then, but it was fine, really, because they always allowed him to follow then.

He knows now that he has always been a silly child, young, naïve, full of trust, and, really, not much has changed since then, except that he is less naïve, though everyone else will likely say otherwise, he knows, but see if he cares, because in his opinion, being naïve and full of trust, are one and the same, as it will only become naivety when the person being trusted is proven to be not worth the trust placed upon them.

He grunts a little from exertion and briefly adjusts his arms again and rolls his shoulders forward and then he keeps walking, because he knows he cannot afford to waste time, and so he keeps going and going. And as he walks, he cannot help but remember again how many times he has heard those words, those words that ask where they are going to, only asked a little differently, to address only a single person, because the person being addressed is the only one going.

"…where are you going?" he recalls asking as he held onto them, looking at them unhappily and wistfully hoping it would stop them from leaving, and he thinks now that he was able to make it work, somehow, but not for long enough as they tug themselves loose from his loose grip.

"Go to sleep, it's late," they had said to him, as they had turned to walk away, but he had not listened, and it does not surprise him that he had actually jumped from his comfortable bed, ran after them as they walked away, and then grabbed hold once again, and that time, he had refused to let go. "…let go."

"No."

"Let go."

"No!"

"…let go. I'll not say it again."

"_No!_"

Arguably, that has probably been the best argument he has ever had in his life, if only because he had been able to win it merely by saying only a single word over and over while holding on tight with both of his chubby little hands, refusing to be shaken off by them. Even when they try shake him off harder, he clings tighter and uses every limb he has at his disposal to ensure they will not leave him, because he was only little and still so very very afraid of the dark, and that was why he has always wanted them to be there by his side, or at the very least until he fell fast asleep.

It always takes a while for them to cave in to him, he remembers also, but in the end, they always do and agree to stay, and he would always cheer happily and drag them back to the bed, climbing under the covers and refusing to let them go, even though they are saying they will not leave, because he wanted to be absolutely sure they do not leave him alone, and he made extra sure by tossing the blanket over them and snuggling up against them, smiling happily as they had wrapped their arms around him, holding him gently. He has known since the moment he saw them the first time that they were kind, and even though _he_ said they were anything but, he never did believe it and his stubborn streak has lead him to stick to them like glue whenever he can. He cannot believe the words that are spoken about them, more often than not outright rejects what is said, and insists on that he will find the truth for himself, and he still does to this day, he knows.

The path is getting really steep now, but he refuses to give in and he lifts his heavy feet, setting them down and forcing his legs to push his battered and bruised body ever onward, and many would say his stubborn streak will become his own undoing, but he is well aware that he is too stubborn to allow that. That is why he is still going, after all, even as his skin rips as he walks past the thorns, and yet he cannot care as his blood flows steadily before it begins to clot to prevent himself from bleeding to death, though that does take a while, which is more testimony of how long he has really been in there.

As he walks, he cannot help but frown as he recalls a question that often accompanied the one he had often asked them, when they had disappeared and did not return until several days later. In a way, the question is the same, only in a different tense.

"Where did you go?" he remembers asking them after he had hugged them tightly upon their return to the room, and he remembers being afraid that they would leave again if he were to let go. He had known that they had things to do, things that _he_ told them to do and he had also known that he was never allowed to go along, no matter how often he begged for them to take him along, but he had never been able to understand why, because, while _he _said it was not safe for him, he had always vehemently disagreed, claiming he would be fine if they were with him. Somehow those were always argument he would never be able to win, even when he went to ask them instead.

He never did like when they left to go somewhere without him, because for a reason he cannot explain, when they come back again they always look so horribly sad that he wants to hug them tight and never let go ever again if it means getting rid of that expression he so never wishes to ever _ever_ see again. They never did say where they had gone during those few days of absence, but there were times when there was something that covered their face that made them look so very very different from what he used to, and he remembers asking about it once and never getting an answer that he could call an actual answer, but he has always felt it had something to do with the reason they were sent away. Now that he is older, he knows what was on his face, but is still unsure as to why they would have needed it, though there is one reason he can think of but utterly refuses to think of, because the very thought of anyone, not just them, doing what it is that thought entails is enough to almost make him sick, and the thought of them being forced to…

He shakes the thought away quickly, refusing to think any longer on that subject, instead trying to recall his past, and how they had crouched down and hugged him tight to them, and he recalls how much that had surprised him, because in normal situations, he would have had to almost plead with them for a hug, and now he did not even have to say a single word to get one, but he decided eventually to not question it and hold on tight, and then, when drops of salty water fall into his hair, he gently ran his hands over their back, unsure and a little afraid about what could make them cling to him like a child, crying silently with their very being seeming to tremble. All he could do was sit there and hug them, whispering at them that everything would be okay and he would always be there for them, so there was no reason for them to cry, but this only seemed to make it worse, and yet it was all he could do for them.

He remembered then that they stayed by his side that night, and he and they remained huddled under the blanket, hidden from the outside world and anything that may want to hurt them, and he remember feeling like nothing could reach either of them at that point, as much as he knows now that that it was only his childish thoughts, trying to find solace in simple things, simple pleasures of being with the person he trusted more than he trusted anyone. They never did tell him where they had gone, but he supposes it does not matter, and even though he was and still is highly curious, he is actually dreading to hear the answer. He recalls feeling very happy then, happy because he felt the days like that would never en and he would always be able to be with them, and they would stay by his side forever, and maybe, somewhere deep down, he really believed that, but he knows now, that as much as one wishes for such days to never end, they always will.

The path is a little less steep and more solid now, and for that he is very thankful, because this gives him a few moments to properly catch his breath as he stops walking only for a minute before continuing onward. It is probably already dark out, he reasons, as he cannot see any light whatsoever, though he is still able to see where he is going, even if he is not entirely sure how, but he is not about to question it and merely presses onward.

"Where are we going?"

He is not sure what to feel when he recalls another moment when he asked them that, the first time that he was allowed to go with them, after _he_ said he had been ready after a long long time of rigorous training that he is not sure of how he even survived it, only because he knows how the trip ended up. They had been anxious, he had been able to tell right from the start, because he had been unable to master any kind of magic spells, and was only able to use his thin and lithe build to be swift and rush in before he could be attacked first, and so they had said they would protect him no matter what, and he trusted them completely.

But no amount of training could have ever prepared him for what he was faced with when the both of them arrived at their destination, nothing could have ever prepared him for what he would be forced to do during that time, and there was nothing they could do to save him from the terrors he bore witness to that day. There are no words he can use to describe how he felt that day, what he went through when he witnessed that massacre, what went through as he saw all those people falling to the ground and simply ceasing to move, but he did know how to name what went through him when one of the people tried to hurt them; anger, despair, desperation, and he had lunged for the person who dared threaten them, as a surge of raw power rushed through him and he moved before he could tell his body to stop, as the power turned him into an uncontrollable beast.

It had been his first time taking the life of another person…

He recalls that when he got off of his power rush, all he could do was sit on the ground, staring at what was left of the person he had just attacked, and he had been unable to register for a long time just what it was he had just done, but as the light slowly dawned to him, his entire frame shook and he could feel the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks, before he dared to look back, back to them and he remembers hoping for something, anything that would make him feel any less horrible than he did, but all they could do was stare at him, and he was not sure if there were any words he could use to describe the look that played over their face just then. He could not say anything, could barely will himself to move, he could only stare at them and wish feverishly for them to stop looking at him like that and hold him and tell him that everything will be alright and that he has not done anything wrong, but it just did not happen and he wanted to cry, and yet he could not do it even though his tears flowed faster now and his chest hurt so badly he felt like it might burst at any moment, but finally, after what had felt like forever to him, they moved and were by his side in an instant, drawing him in and holding on fast, refusing to let him go and murmuring and whispering things he can barely remember now, but at least they were by his side now, and to his younger self, that had been all that mattered as he clung to them and cried like a newborn baby, unable to keep his emotions in check any longer.

It was his first time using so much power, and he knows that it would not be the last time, but if things had not gone the way they had, perhaps he would have never dared use it ever again and he was uncertain how to feel about that, even today. Perhaps it would not have mattered either way, but he felt like that day had been a major turning point for him where his fate would be decided.

He breathes a little harder now, but he refuses to stop and instead keeps going, and he likes to believe that the gradually brightening surroundings mean that he is getting close to the exit now, because that would be a true blessing, and he feels that they can surely use one right now after everything they must have gone through.

"…where are we going?" he recalls himself asking amidst his soft sobs and his runny nose as he tried so very hard to stop crying, because they had asked him to stop, but he was having so much trouble with it to the point where he almost choked on his own sobs, so instead he hid his face in their neck, because he did not want to mess up their beautiful hair at all.

He had not been expecting an answer and he did not get one, as they just walked, their arms holding up his little legs as he had his own wrapped around their neck as their tail was wrapped securely around his waist, to keep him in place if he were to ever let go, while his own was hanging limply behind him, with only its tail twitching every so often. They kept carrying him, and he remained silent, for what had to be one of the few times in his life, because he had always been a bundle of energy, and while they had often said they hated his constant talking, it had never stopped him, because this was the only way that he could get them to talk at all, and so he would keep talking and talking, if only to get some form of response from them, any kind of response at all.

"…it will be okay…"

He was not expecting to hear those words at all and his tail twitches for a moment as he blinks while turning his head to try and see their face better, but they are not looking his way.

"…never again. I'll make sure of it… you will never have to do that ever again…"

A lie, he knows now, but perhaps they really did think he would never have to take away the life of another person, and perhaps it could have all been avoided somehow, but it does not really matter, he supposes. He does not remember just how long they walked, but somewhere along the road, he remembers falling asleep only because they, for a reason he could not explain, started to sing a song he had never heard before, but it was so pretty, and he wishes he never fell asleep so he could hear the end of it, but what he does remember is waking up again and being utterly alone, and to make matters worse, he did not even know where he was, but it was dark and scary and so he huddled away and cried, praying and hoping that they would come back for him and say it was okay to come out again, just like every other time when he would hide under the bed because he was angry with them for not getting his way.

But they never did…

Hunger was eventually what had forced him to move, eventually, and from there, everything had become blurry, because his memory had begun to abandon him bit by bit until all he had left was his own name and the memory of that shining blue light, and he wonders if they were somehow responsible for it, but he supposes it really does not matter anymore.

"…where… are we… going…?"

…Oh so _that_ is where the question had come from, he thinks with a smile as he turns his head back to look at them, weary eyes of amethyst staring ahead of them unseeing.

"Well… where do you think?"

There is no answer, and he has not been expecting one, so he just looks straight ahead again and focuses on walking once again, but after a while, he decides to finally answer their question with only one word.

"Home."

"…home…?"

"Yep!"

"…but… I don't…"

"Oh shush! 'Course you do. You just haven't realized it yet."

He knows for sure, certainly, somewhere out there, there is a place that they can call home, and it may just take a long time before they do, but he swears he will help them to find it, no matter what, because that is only fair, after they have guided him to the place he can now freely call his home.

He flinches a bit when the light becomes so bright that it is almost blinding him, but he cannot stop the grin from coming onto his face as he finally steps out into the fresh air, and he allows himself a laugh of relief.

"Haha… we made it… we _actually _made it out! What you think 'bout that, huh? …Kuja?"

There is no response and he looks back in worry, noting how their eyes are closed and they do not appear to be breathing at all and this makes him panic as he wriggles his tail around, searching for anything to indicate they are not dead, and he breathes out when his tail touches what he believes is probably a sensitive spot as they flinch against his back, and he allows a soft sigh.

"Dammit, _don't _scare me like that… I almost thought you…"

He shakes his head softly, smiling to himself as he adjusts his hold again and wraps his tail around their waist, and he realizes suddenly that this is exactly how they had carried him off long ago and brought him away from his own past and into a world where he was the only one of his kind, a world that has accepted him for whom he is, and this fact only makes him more determined than ever to find their destination along with them, and he swears to himself that he will not return home until they have found their own.

Though perhaps, now that he thinks a little more on it, perhaps being on the road in search of your destination, is much more rewarding than finally reaching that very place you have struggled so very hard to get to.

With one final sigh, he continues to walk.

He does not know where his and their destination is, but he is sure that, once they both find it, they will know and they will finally be home… And he intends to be there for them every step of the way.

* * *

**Just a quick two-shot I've been thinking of. Part two will be a look into, obviously, Kuja's head about the same things.**


End file.
